Fire and Ice
by Raven-Haired-Artist
Summary: When stranded in some Colorado woods, John falls for a beautiful and jilted romance author who's trying to escape from the memory of the failed relationship she had with her fiancé. Can John get the best of her fiery temper and set a fire of his own in her heart?


**Author's Note: _Those of you who know I'm taking a hiatus, this is the beginning of me coming back, lol. This was the easiest of my stories to edit (because there wasn't much of anything bad in it to begin with), so I went ahead and edited it & polished it up some. Will be working on re-outlining my other stories & will get to posting them as I re-write on them. It may be before the holidays are over, but it may not either. I will just have to see how it goes. Hope they will be enjoyed! :-)_  
**

**Rating:** I'd say about PG-13 (for blood & a make-out scene or two. Nothing major.)  
**Content/Warnings:** A little blood, and the main OC is partially undressed for legitimate purposes (not for sexual purposes; medical reasons). Also a make out session (no sex).  
**Pairing/Characters:** John Cena & OC: Angel Landon  
**Story Disclaimers:** I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE or TNA. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story intended for entertainment.  
**Summary:** When stranded in some Colorado woods, John Cena falls for a beautiful and jilted romance author who's trying to escape from the memory of the failed relationship she had with her fiancé. Can John get the best of her fiery temper and set a fire of his own in her heart?

_**Fire and Ice**_

"Just great," Angel Landon muttered as she flicked off the heater's switch in the old 1982 Ford pickup. She'd battled with it the whole drive, smacking the dash here and there as the heater cut in and out. "Serves you right, Angel, for buying an old truck on the spur of the moment, with no questions asked," she told herself. _Hopefully, the extra fifteen-hundred dollars I gave the owner to keep his mouth shut about seeing me will at least serve its purpose_, she thought.

She ran her gloved fingers over her long auburn locks. She'd tried unsuccessfully to tuck all her hair into a toboggan before she'd left, in an attempt to hide the flashy color and length. The young woman didn't want to be recognized. She knew she'd have to deal with her fans smothering her and ruining what little peace and quiet she'd find at the tiny cabin in Boulder.

_The cabin_.

It had been forever since she'd visited last. The cabin had belonged to her grandmother. Kate Landon had passed away three years prior, and afterward Angel felt more alone than ever. Until Derrick Wilson came along anyway.

Derrick had been her boyfriend and then her fiancé for the past year and a half. He had romanced her with roses and fancy dinners even when Angel had protested all the luxuries. Because of his persistence for her affections, Angel fell head over heels in love with him within a month. Once Derrick realized this, he immediately began pressuring her into sex. Angel, being a Christian woman, had strong convictions regarding premarital sex and could not bring herself to go through with it, no matter how happy it would've made Derrick. She loved him, but she expected his love and understanding in return.

Soon, Derrick had proposed to her and when she accepted, he began pressuring her even more. They had many fights about it, with Angel often heatedly telling him they were engaged and therefore didn't have much longer to wait. He had stung her one night when he retorted bitterly, "Exactly. We're engaged. We're as good as married. I mean really, Angel…you're twenty-seven years old. I think you've held out long enough."

The statement hit her like a slap to the face. Her own fiancé had all but called her an old maid.

The last straw occurred when they had gone to her apartment after dinner one night. Angel had reluctantly decided to push her convictions aside, and take the next step in their relationship. Derrick was pouring them drinks while she went into her bedroom to change into a negligee, unbeknownst to him. She came out of her room, and halted in her tracks, disbelief written across her face.

Derrick was at her kitchen counter, pouring them drinks, all right. And he was mixing a white powder from a capsule into a glass of club soda. He had felt her watching him, and looked up at her actually smirking at seeing her in a short black nightie.

"Well, if I'd known you'd come to your senses, I wouldn't have bothered with this," he gestured to the doctored sparkling water. Seeing the horrified expression on her face, he came over to her and pulled her into his arms.

"Oh, baby…don't look so shocked…It's just a mild sedative to help you relax. I thought the only thing keeping you from sleeping with me was your nerves. So, I-"

His words cut off as Angel's knee collided into his groin. Then, as if leading an unruly child, she grabbed Derrick's ear roughly between her long nails and began forcefully leading him to her door.

In the next few seconds he stood out in the hallway holding himself in one hand and rubbing his ear with the other.

"Angel…W-what t-the…devil…" he gasped out in agony.

"Virginity is something which is given and received, Derrick. It's a _gift_ which is given and received. Not something you _steal_ from someone! I can't believe I almost caved in on my morals and let God down…for _you_," she said with disdain. Her green eyes raked over his tall frame with contempt. With that, she slammed the door in his face and then went to bed, crying herself to sleep.

The traumatic event had occurred three weeks before, and gladly, she had not seen Derrick since.

Now, Angel was heading to her grandmother's cabin for a couple of weeks to try and forget the heartache Derrick left with her. She wasn't so much disappointed the relationship hadn't worked out with him. She knew now she'd never truly loved him. Too bad it had taken a year and a half of her life to realize the fact. No, she was more heartbroken that she had been so stupid as to take the bad treatment he'd dished out to her. She was disgusted that she'd almost given herself to him and betrayed God.

Now, traveling through so many back roads, Angel drove as steadily as she could down the snowy, slick paths, praying the whole time just to arrive at the cabin in one piece.

Finally, after another hour she pulled in front of the cabin and killed the truck's engine. The temperature had dropped drastically and she was eager to get inside and start a fire.

Once inside, she found firewood stacked neatly in the corner of the living area. The cabin was a small one, equipped with only one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen, and a bathroom, but would be sufficient for what she needed.

Solitude.

Which was ironic seeing as she was as alone as one could get. Except for her adoring fans. But sometimes they made the loneliness worse. Rather than make her feel loved, they tended to remind her of how alone she truly was.

Angel began to work at setting up a fire, and unpacking. Nearly dark outside when she finished, she decided to relax with a hot bath and then curl up by the fireplace with a book instead of thinking about writing. She smiled for the first time that day as she laid her hardback copy of Jane Austen's _Sense and Sensibility_ on the bed, and then picked out her favorite silky, white nightgown. The garment made her feel feminine and pretty.

Angel knew she wasn't, by any means, plain. She knew she was attractive what with her slender waist and curvy hips. Not to mention her pale, ivory skin and emerald-colored eyes were nothing to sneeze at. And the thick, wavy red hair which nearly reached down to her bottom didn't hurt either. Which was why she was so frustrated. She knew she was pretty, so why in the world had she allowed herself to settle for Derrick and become a doormat?

She shook her head. _And that's exactly why I wanted to take a trip_, she thought, _to keep from thinking about this stuff_.

She entered the bathroom then, and ran her bath water.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

John Cena drove down the icy roads as carefully as he could. He was on his way to Denver for Monday Night Raw and wasn't making good time. His rental car whirred in protest with his frantic shifting of gears.

"Come on you stupid piece of-" he groaned, glancing down at the gearshift. He couldn't believe his luck. The car's transmission was obviously on the fritz. "What are the odds," he asked himself, grinding the gearshift back into first gear. "Out of all the rentals available, I get the one lemon. And now I won't only be late for RAW, I'll probably freeze to death."

He looked down at the clutch, almost feeling it was pointless to use the pedal. He glanced back up and saw a dog dart out in front of him. By reflex, he jerked the wheel to the left, and just barely missed the canine.

But not the tree looming right ahead of him.

He smacked into the tree trunk head on and in that exact second the airbags disengaged. He sat still for a moment, catching his breath.

"Whoa," he managed.

He wasn't hurt. Not even a scratch. Most likely due to his traveling at such a slow speed. He leaned forward to re-start the car. The engine protested. After a few tries, it wouldn't even try to turn over.

A curse flew from John's mouth as he grabbed his cell phone. He went through his contact list and highlighted Vince's number, then hit the green CALL button. A second later, his jaw dropped when he heard a loud beeping noise. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen. The words NO SERVICE flashed on the screen.

"You have to be kidding me," he groaned, climbing out of the car.

There wasn't a chance of hitchhiking. No cars were in sight and with the snowy weather, no one would be out driving.

John shook his head and grabbed his duffel bag. His only chance was to find a nearby house or cabin and beg for a place to sleep.

Or at the very least, a phone to use.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Angel was curled up in the armchair next to the fireplace with her book, when she heard a knock at her door. She slowly laid aside her book and stared at the door.

_I can't pretend I'm not here_, she thought, _the fire's glowing in the window_. She quietly got up and grabbed her little twenty-five, gripping the gun in her small hand. _What if Derrick somehow found out about my leaving and followed me out here_, she wondered in horror. That would not make for a peaceful vacation. "Who's there," she managed to call out. She heard a deep but smooth, male voice answer on the other side of the door.

"Hi, my name is John Cena. I wrecked my car down the road and I really need a phone, or a place to stay for the night."

Angel gripped the small handgun tighter, opened the door a crack, leaving the chain lock in place, and stayed out of sight of the stranger.

"I'm sorry. I don't have a phone and there's no way I can let a strange man stay in here with me."

"Maam, please," John said through the crack of the door. "I completely understand your caution, but there's not another place around here for miles. It's about eight-degrees out here. I could freeze to death."

Angel contemplated this. He was right. But how could she let a man inside the small cabin with her? He could be a rapist or a killer, or no telling what! But on the other hand, how could she be responsible for a man's death? A horrible death at that!

"Look, I'm going to open the door," she said, reaching for the chain lock. "But don't get any ideas. I have a gun, and I know how to use it."

She opened the door to the freezing wind outside and faced the huge man in her doorway.

He was…gorgeous.

"Easy, lady…" John started, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. "I don't want any trouble."

"Well, you've obviously found some," Angel said, overcoming her initial shock. She had imagined a big, greasy-haired mountain man pounding on her door. Not this incredibly handsome and clean-cut man.

John Cena eyed the red-haired beauty in front of him. _She would have to be a redhead_, he thought warily.

Her emerald eyes raked over him jadedly, yet he could see an icy glare waiting to emerge. He couldn't help but let his own eyes roam over the woman's willowy body clad in a long, white, lacy nightgown.

Angel could all but read his thoughts and nervously pulled her robe more securely around her. "You can't really expect me to let you stay here. You could be anyone. You-"

"And you can't really expect me to stay _out here_," John countered. "I mean come on lady, I could and probably _would_ die." He barged his way in then, not even seeming to worry that the woman had a gun in her hand. "I'm sorry lady, but I'm staying. And there's no way you can move me, that I'm sure of," he said in defiance.

In her sudden fear, Angel shakily pointed the gun at him. "_This_ will."

"You aren't going to shoot me," John said, setting his bag on the floor.

"Oh, no?"

He shot his arm out and latched on to her wrist, grabbing the gun from her, and yanked her slender frame against him in the process.

"You hesitated," he grinned in her face. Twin dimples appeared in his cheeks. "If you were going to shoot me, you would've done it back when I barged in here."

Angel struggled to breathe, overcome by the shock of suddenly being pressed up against this man's hard chest.

And now he had her gun.

"Ar-are you going to k-kill me," she panted, too frightened to even move. "You should know I'm a famous writer and my publisher knows I'm here." she bluffed.

"Pffft," John scoffed at her and chuckled. "Lady, why would I kill you?" He returned the gun to her then. "Would a killer give you your gun back?"

Her breathing returned to normal bit by bit, and she slowly shook her head, "I-I guess not."

"I'm sorry if I scared you," John said, his tone softening somewhat. "I'm just not too eager to freeze to death."

Angel nodded, "I understand."

She looked down at her robe which now hung open slightly to reveal the creamy, ivory skin of her neck and upper chest. She quickly pulled the garment closed and secured the belt into a knot. She glanced up at her guest and caught him watching her.

"Hey, don't mind me," John winked at her flirtatiously. "I live to appreciate the beauty of a woman."

Angel felt her skin heat up. She knew she was attractive, but she'd never had the word "beauty" used in a sentence to describe her.

"Uh, well…I'm modest."

John clicked his tongue and shook his head, "Pity. So what's your name?"

"What's yours," she shot back, challenging him.

"I told you outside…I'm John Cena. Nice to meet you…" He trailed off, sticking out his large hand to shake hers.

"Angel. Angel Landon," she replied, taking his hand. His skin was surprisingly warm despite the weather outside.

"Nice to meet you, Angel," John said, taking off his coat and draping it across the arm of the sofa. He then pulled a black hoodie out of his bag and pulled the heavy shirt on over a purple t-shirt which featured an obvious likeness of himself with the words "_Never Give Up Cenation_" around the caricature of him. Angel then noticed the matching baseball cap he wore.

She lifted an eyebrow and gestured to his ensemble, "Are you in a habit of advertising yourself?"

Chuckling and admiring the girl's wit, John sat down on the couch as Angel moved to put more wood on the fire. "So you're an author," he asked, momentarily hedging around her question. "What kind of author?"

"Uh, romance mostly. Sometimes romantic thrillers," Angel answered uncomfortably as she sat down in her armchair.

"Cool," John said, removing his cap and laying his head back on the couch. The removal of the cap revealed a brown crew cut hairstyle, and sapphire blue eyes. Eyes which Angel feared she could drown in.

Averting her gaze from his, she spoke carefully, "So, what do you do?"

"I'm a pimp."

"What?"

John busted out laughing then. "Angel, chill…it's a joke. I'm actually a professional wrestler for World Wrestling Entertainment."

"Really," Angel actually looked impressed. "I guess you have to stay in pretty good shape for that line of work, huh?"

John nodded, lifting up his layer of tops to reveal his six-pack proudly, "I guess you could say that."

Angel nearly gaped at the washboard abs John Cena possessed, "Wow."

John chuckled, "That's not the typical response I get from women, but hey, I'll take it."

"Well, it's just...I've never seen anyone so ripped," she explained. "In fact I didn't even know a person _could_ be that muscled."

"Well, I've worked out every day of my life since I was twelve," John explained. "And my profession explains why I "advertise myself"," he added teasingly. "Anyway, what's a beautiful woman like yourself doing out here in the middle of nowhere? And why all alone?"

"I…really don't want to talk about it," Angel said, picking up her book from the floor. "I think I'm going to bed. You're welcome to sleep on the sofa. And I will give you a ride into town in the morning."

John nodded, "Sounds like a plan. Sweet dreams, Angel." He grinned at her mischievously and wriggled his eyebrows.

"Sweet-uh…G-goodnight," she stammered and turned to go into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

_What else could possibly happen_, she wondered helplessly.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Angel awoke around dawn. It was still fairly dark throughout the cabin, but her throat was dry and she needed something to drink. As she stepped out of the little bedroom she could hear John snoring lightly from the couch. She glanced at him and noticed he was asleep without so much as a blanket. She immediately felt terrible.

_How rude I must seem_, she thought as she stepped back into her room and grabbed one of the blankets off her bed. She then went back to the couch and crouched down beside John placing her hand on his face to see if he felt cold. Surprisingly, his skin was warm. The fire still blazed in the fireplace. She took the blanket and draped it over his large frame anyway knowing he'd remove the warm cover if he wanted to.

As she stood to get herself a glass of water, John's hand shot out and gently grabbed hers.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he said, looking up at her and gently squeezing her hand.

Angel found herself smiling softly at him. "I know. I wanted to. I mean…I-I didn't want you to freeze," she finished lamely.

"How could a man freeze with _you_ under the same roof," John asked her, his voice suddenly husky. He reached up and brushed a few strands of her flaming hair off her forehead as he saw bewilderment cross her face, illuminated by the fire's glow. He traced his thumb down her cheek and then let his hand travel to the back of her head, pulling her face down to his.

For whatever reason, Angel did not comprehend his intentions until she felt John's soft, warm lips brushing lightly against hers.

She gasped and pulled back, "Please, don't kiss me."

John smirked at her, "Okay, first of all, why not? And second of all, that wasn't anywhere _near_ what I call a kiss."

Angel chose to ignore the last statement. "Why not," she repeated. "Because I said so. And because kissing…It isn't just an everyday occurrence for me."

"A kiss is just a kiss," John told her. He still held her hand and now stroked his thumb over the back of it.

"Not when it leads to…other things," she said delicately, and managed to tug her hand free. She continued, "You'll leave today. I only kiss a man when…when we mean something to each other. I'll only kiss a man who isn't just trying to…get me into bed. Not a man who is merely passing through a day in my life."

John stared at her a moment. He began putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

_She's alone in here because she's been hurt_—_hurt badly_. He could see it in her blazing emerald eyes. _And because of the idiot, nobody will ever get close to her again. Unless they have patience and perseverance_. He smiled inwardly. Those were two attributes which best described him. And he was completely certain Angel Landon was a woman he would love to have in his life. He did not know how to explain it. He just felt drawn to her from the moment she opened the door to him. He'd never felt anything like it before. It was as if something literally was pushing him toward her; like a pair of magnets.

He decided he shouldn't push his luck at the moment, so he just nodded, "Fair enough. I won't kiss you again, until you ask me too. And that's a promise."

"Well, you only have a few more hours to wait on that request, and you're going to be sorely disappointed," she replied with a confident smile.

John flashed his dimples, and rose up eye level with her, slowly moving his face closer and closer to hers. Angel wanted to move her face away, but those blue eyes of his…they were so…hypnotic.

John could practically read her thoughts, so he addressed her softly. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kiss you. Yet…"

She felt his warm breath brush over her neck as he spoke to her in that soft, smooth voice of his.

"But just remember…I have all the patience in the world. And when I really want something…I fight for it—every step of the way. And…I _always_ win."

The passion in his words melted over her and her eyes closed involuntarily. She felt his breath brushing over her mouth then.

"Ask me…" he whispered. "Please, Angel…Ask me."

Oh, how she wanted to!

Coming to her senses, she opened her eyes, "Leave me alone."

With that she stormed back to her room and slammed the door.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

About three hours later, it was light outside and Angel went to wake John up.

"Hey, come on, Cena. I'll get ya into town," she told him as she gently nudged at his shoulder. He grunted in reply, but did sit up on the couch.

"What time is it," he groaned.

"It's a little after eight," came the reply. Then he saw a coffee cup being shoved under his nose.

"Now I know its love," he chuckled. "How did you know I'm a coffee drinker?"

He watched as Angel sat down in the armchair across from him. She had evidently been up for a while since she was now dressed in a modest pair of low-rise jeans and a teal colored, off-the-shoulder sweater which emphasized her fiery hair and green eyes.

"You scream it," Angel chuckled, sipping on her own cup of coffee. "You're welcome to use the bathroom if you want to shower or whatever."

John nodded, gulping down his cup of coffee. He stood and grabbed some clothes out of his bag, then headed to the bathroom. He came back out within fifteen minutes and saw Angel zipping up her Italian boots.

_The girl has style_, he thought, admiring the long, slender legs which the snug jeans clung to like a second skin.

"Ready," she asked, standing up.

He nodded and grabbed his duffel bag. She pulled on her coat and grabbed her keys as they headed out the door.

"Okay, if you are a famous author, why in the world are you doing driving _that_," John asked, indicating the old beat up truck.

"A disguise," Angel answered, as they climbed in. "I wanted privacy. Oh, and the heater's broken. Sorry."

She put the key in the ignition and turned it.

Nothing.

The engine would not even attempt to turn over.

"Not…happening!" She laid her forehead on the steering wheel and groaned in frustration.

"I take it I'm not getting to town," John commented wryly.

"Sugar, _we_ are not going anywhere. The truck has evidently gotten too cold."

They climbed out of the truck and just stood out in the cold snow, not knowing what else to do in the crazy situation.

"Well, you know the cool thing about me is…." John started, picking up a good-sized handful of snow and molding it into a perfect white sphere.

"Don't do it," Angel said, backing away from him. "I will kill-"

_SMACK_!

The snowball hit her right in the shoulder.

"I can see the good in a bad situation," John finished, laughing.

"JOHN!"

It occurred to her it was the first time she called him by his first name. Without even thinking, she ran right at him, and dove. She grabbed him around the waist and she wasn't near strong enough to tackle him, but John humored her. It was a surefire excuse to have her in his arms. They fell to the snow and she actually smiled down at him, shoving snow into his face.

"Augghhhhh," John yelled, laughing all the while. He shifted his weight, pinning her under him in a submission maneuver.

"Get off of me," Angel squealed giggling.

She felt him hold her slender wrists together over her head with only one of his hands. But for some reason, it didn't frighten her. Had it been Derrick pinning her down, after what she learned of him, she would be terrified. But the feel of John's warmth crushing against her, brought nothing but surges of giddy warmth.

"A snow Angel," John said so quietly she wasn't sure she heard him correctly.

"What?"

"You're a beautiful snow Angel," he repeated, lowering his head slowly to her face. He felt her tense up as he came nearer to her neck.

"So, will you be in trouble with your job," she asked him abruptly, trying to change the subject and get him to raise up off her a little.

He shook his head and then nuzzled her collar bone.

"No…They'll understand when I explain what happened." He groaned softly then, "You smell so good."

"John…please…" she protested as she felt his nose brush over her neck.

"Angel…please…let me…just your neck…please just let me kiss your neck…" He released her wrists and then wrapped her completely in his muscled arms. He was surprised to feel Angel's arms rise up to circle around his neck.

And then he heard her breathless whisper, "O-okay…"

He smiled softly and then lightly brushed his lips over the graceful curve of her neck. At hearing her soft intake of breath, he repeated the action and then pressed a firmer kiss just below her ear. Moving upward, he gently tugged on her earlobe between his teeth and then began dusting her jawbone with light kisses down to her chin.

"John…" Angel whispered shakily, "J-John…"

He felt her grasping at his shoulders and clenching his coat in her hands.

Grinning, he dipped his head lower and brushed his lips over the hollow of her throat and flicked his tongue across her collarbone. He was rewarded with a soft whimper full of nothing less than a burning passion.

"Mmm…Angel…" he whispered against her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the soft skin. "Ask me…"

"No…"

She felt his hand pull one side of her coat aside and then his mouth was trailing over her bare shoulder, and across her collar bone to the other shoulder.

"Ask me," he said huskily.

Panting, and unable to make a coherent sentence, she shook her head frantically. John sighed exasperatedly and then gently but firmly, pulled her slender frame closer against his body. And then he continued to assault her neck and shoulders with his mouth.

Angel could not take much more. Her head tossed back and she moaned softly in a mixture of pleasure, frustration and need.

"Ask me," John demanded. Then his tone softened, "Please, Angel. Please…just ask me. That's all you have to do."

She sobbed then and pushed at his chest.

"Leave me alone! Stop this! I can't! I just can't!"

John rose up a bit, but kept her underneath him. "But you want to…don't you?" His blue eyes pierced into her green ones.

"It doesn't matter," Angel cried, tears streaming down her face. "What I want isn't always what's best for me."

"What you want isn't always what's bad for you either," John growled.

"And how would _you_ know," she demanded. "To you, obviously sex means nothing. Well, it means something to _me_! All you handsome men are the same. You only want one thing. And you'll do anything to get it. Belittle me, threaten me, touch me till you're making me crazy and unable to even think clearly, drug me-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" John interrupted, irritation etched across his handsome face. "I've not belittled you at all, or threatened you, and I definitely haven't drugged you. And as for the touching part…you didn't sound like you minded very much."

"You were just manipulating me to get what you wanted," Angel countered. "You didn't care if I enjoyed it or not…you wanted me unable to think."

John stared at her, wondering what she'd gone through to make her so suspicious.

Angel mistook his silence for admission.

"I hate you," she growled. "I want you off my property by the time I get back. I don't care where you go or how you get there. But you better be gone," she finished, jabbing his chest with her finger for emphasis.

With that, she spun on her heel and headed for the woods.

When she had moved far enough away, John groaned.

"That went really well." he thought out loud, rubbing the back of his neck.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Angel stomped through the woods angrily, upset that she had let things go so far with John. She had never let things go so far with Derrick!

_But then again, I wasn't ever that attracted to Derrick in the first place. I was afraid of being alone_, she argued with herself.

Angel groaned and stopped to catch her breath then and continued thinking her actions through.

_John didn't do anything I didn't want him to do. He did nothing more than I permitted him to do. If he was a bad guy, he wouldn't have stopped when I told him to. And it's not his fault he doesn't know I am abstaining till marriage, because I never told him. I was definitely pretty rotten to him_, she admitted to herself. _I owe him a big apology_.

"All he really did was kiss my neck."

Tears burned her eyes when she realized she'd allowed Derrick to get away with so much, but when it came to John just wanting to kiss her…she had unleashed her temper on him.

_And despite what I thought_…_there_ is _something there_, she continued analyzing the situation. _I don't know how I know_…_but John Cena is a good man_… _and I_…_I've so messed up_!

Angel turned around to start heading back to the cabin, knowing full well that John would probably be gone already after what she had said to him. She realized then that she must have walked a good mile out, because the cabin wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Oh, man," she groaned, walking in the direction she thought the cabin was in. "My stupid temper may have just gotten me into some trouble."

She had walked about a half mile when she heard some dry twigs breaking along with some ferocious growls coming from behind her. She stopped where she was, frozen in fear. As she turned around, she saw a pack of about five wolves running toward her.

_Gram always talked about wild wolves around here, but I never saw any. I thought she was just always trying to scare me to keep me out of the woods_!

She gasped and took off running as she peeled her coat off. She threw it away from her, knowing at least some of the wolves would chase her scent from the garment. But now, she knew she had made a mistake when the biting, cold wind stung her skin through the thin sweater she wore. She glanced back and made out three wolves that were still chasing her.

"Help," she screamed. She knew the cry was pointless. No one was remotely nearby. No one could possibly hear her. Still, she couldn't stop the frantic screams. "Someone help me!"

Her free hair tangled around her face as the wind pinched her all over. Shrubbery and branches whipped her face as she ran. She cried out as the heel of her boot's heel snapped loose and she fell face-forward to the ground. Frantically, she scrambled to her feet and felt a burning pain shoot up her calf from her ankle. Fearing she's sprained the ankle, she hobbled as quickly as her lopsided shoes would allow. Scrambling around a large tree, she had to halt immediately when she spotted a cliff right in front of her.

_A big one, _she thought. She came to a halt right in front of it and assessed the distance across._ Too far to jump, _was her last coherent thought as she turned around. One of the wolves pounced on her and sank his teeth into her wrist, piercing her flesh and eliciting a scream of torture from Angel as they plummeted over the cliff. The other two wolves stopped and watched them.

Angel hit an area slightly cushioned by leaves and snow. It did very little to soften her fall however. She felt her body jar against the ground and the air was knocked out of her. Her head smacked down next and she was barely able to make out the wolf getting the raw end of the deal. He crashed down, and his frame shattered against a large pile of rocks.

Angel groaned in pain as she struggled to stand, and pulled herself up using some tree roots along the wall of the cliff's drop off. She was greeted by a fierce pain to her head as well as her twisted ankle, and fell back to the ground. She sobbed from the pain and panicked when she saw the blood dripping from her wrist. She stuck it in the snow to try clotting the blood to stop the bleeding.

"Please… help me…" she whispered, her breathing growing shallower.

She was fading quickly. Her vision blurred, and then everything dulled before her eyes.

Until, nothing...

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Man, how bad did I piss her off," John wondered out loud after about an hour. He had decided to stay in the cabin till he saw Angel make it back safely, and then he would sneak out the back. How he would face never seeing her again, he did not know. He would have to deal with that later. He _did_ know her name and profession. He could always find her later on and try to fix things.

Despite the mean things she had said to him, he felt really badly. He hadn't meant to push her so far; hadn't meant to pressure her. He realized from the bits of her past she revealed, she had been treated very badly by an ex-lover. He'd deducted the ex was most likely the one who had manipulated her and maybe even drugged her. That made him angry. If a woman didn't want to give herself to a man, then he had no right to force her. John felt bad enough just _urging_ her; he could not imagine a man being so cold as to try and drug a woman into bed.

Growing worried since she was still gone, he stepped out onto the little porch to see if he could see her making her way back.

There wasn't a soul.

The piercing scream for help got his attention however. It sounded far off, but he could have sworn it sounded like Angel. Pure instinct took over as he ran inside and grabbed her gun from off the kitchen counter, grabbed his coat and ran back outside.

"Angel," he yelled, heading for the woods. "_ANGEL_! WHERE ARE YOU," he shouted as loud as he could.

John ran for what seemed like hours, when he finally passed by her coat.

The garment was ripped beyond belief.

_Wolves_, he realized. _She won't survive out here for much longer_, he thought frantically. _Not without her coat_.

He heard wild barking not very far ahead of him. He saw a small pack of gray wolves barking hungrily, staring down a cliff's drop off. Aiming the handgun at them, he fired. He hit one and the other two scrambled off frantically. John hurried over to the edge of the cliff and looked down, seeing Angel lying in a small heap. She wasn't moving at all.

"Oh, my God…ANGEL," he shouted down at her motionless form. He could see a wound on her wrist was bleeding badly and then took notice of the dead wolf lying beside her. _I have to get her back to the cabin_. Quickly, he looked around the area and made out a spot where he could walk down and carry her out. He ran down the rough pathway swiftly and dove to her side.

"Angel! Wake up, sweetie!"

He turned her over and checked her pulse. It was surprisingly strong. He hurriedly ripped off a large strip of material from his shirt and tied it tightly around the wound on her wrist.

"Angel…You've gotta wake up, sweetheart." He patted her ice-cold cheek gently, trying to rouse her and brushed some hair back off her face. He took note of the small scratches on her face but forced himself to focus on her more drastic injuries.

She whimpered and stirred slightly.

"That's it, baby. You're okay."

He was alarmed at her blue-tinged lips, and hugged her to his warm body.

"J-John…" she whispered, her green eyes gazed up at him in a glazed stare.

"Yeah, honey, it's me," he said, taking his coat off and wrapping her in it. "You're gonna be okay." He lifted her to a sitting position then. "That's it, baby. Yeah, put your arm there," he coaxed, placing her uninjured arm around his neck. "I've got you now."

He could feel her small frame shivering against his as he lifted her up into his strong arms. He had to hurry and get her back to the cabin and get a huge fire going. He was walking at a quick pace till he felt her fall limply against him. Then he knew time was running out, and he ran as fast as his legs would allow him. After about twenty minutes, he made it to the cabin.

He got her inside and laid her on the couch, checking her over more thoroughly.

"Angel…" he whispered, worry furrowing his eyebrows. "Baby, you're gonna be fine. Just please, wake up."

When he got no response, he ran over to the little kitchen and dug through the drawers till he found a pair of scissors. He went back to her and started to cut her pant leg.

Moments later, he'd cut off her jeans and sweater, and pulled off her boots. He instantly noticed swelling in her right ankle and made a mental note to check it over.

Like a gentlemen, he truly tried not to notice her now skimpily clad form. He lifted her up again and carried her into the little bedroom, laying her down on the bed, and covering her with the numerous blankets and quilt.

He then went to his bag to grab his first aid kit. He always carried one with him to be on the safe side. He went back to her and grabbed the stuff he needed from the kit. Peroxide, gauze pads, cotton, tape, and bandage scissors. He cleaned her wound with the peroxide and some cotton, and began applying some gauze over the wound and taping it in place. Then he pulled the covers back and prodded his fingers down her leg to make sure the injury in her ankle didn't go up further.

John looked at the ankle, gently prodding it. He turned it slightly.

_A sprain_, he deducted. "At least it's not broken," he muttered, digging an ace bandage out of his first aid kit, and began wrapping it securely.

He soon finished and then pulled the covers back over her. And then he removed his shirt and climbed under the covers with her and pulled her to him, pressing her face to his bare chest. He knew she'd probably kill him when she awoke and felt well enough, but deemed it necessary in raising her body temperature gradually. If he got her to warm too quickly, the cold blood in her body could rush to her heart and cause it to fail.

His blazing skin nearly scorched hers to the point of waking her up.

"What…are you…d-doing," she cried out and sobbed at the shock of finding herself in John's arms and pressed against his naked chest. Her eyes were glazed and disoriented.

"Shhh," he soothed. "It's okay. I'm using my body heat to warm you. We need to get your body temperature back up."

Angel's rapid breathing calmed, though she still wept from the fear of what she'd endured.

"Shh-shh…You're alright," John whispered. "You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you."

For a few more minutes she shivered till John pulled her closer and she snuggled into his warmth.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered.

"What for, sweetheart," he asked, rubbing her back, his fingers brushing lightly over her spine.

"For being so mean to you," she said. "I'm really sorry. It's just…as you probably guessed…I had a boyfriend…a _fiancé_. And he only asked me to marry him in hopes I would soften on my morals and sleep with him," she confessed. "When I didn't…he…tried to drug me." She reached up and wiped away a tear. "And so rather than get involved with a man, I tell myself they're all alike—they all want the same thing. If I think that way I can't get hurt."

John shook his head, "Yes, you can. You can miss out on a great thing. You can lose the chance to love, and to _be_ loved."

"Sometimes, I think it's too late," Angel confessed. "Derrick said I'd held out long enough. He threw my age in my face. Maybe he's right," she chuckled bitterly, and rolled her eyes. "A twenty-seven year old virgin."

"Sweetie, you shouldn't feel ashamed of that. That's beautiful. And so are you." He smiled mischievously then. "You act like your ancient or something. I mean, I'm not far from a decade older than you. Do I appear "old" to you?"

Angel chuckled softly, "No, you don't look old. Although older can be attractive on guys—to _me_, anyway. And besides, I'm willing to bet you're not a virgin."

John actually blushed and laughed, "No. Can't say I am. Sorry."

Angel shook her head, "No…don't be. Just because I feel strongly about my virginity, doesn't mean I expect to be with a virgin." She chuckled. "Actually…I think I'd rather not share my first time with one. It could be very unromantic because I've heard the less experienced a guy is the more painful it makes the woman's first time."

"So you don't want a virgin?" His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well, that's a handy piece of information to have," he said as his voice grew husky.

Angel blushed then, realizing the implication of her words. "I-I just meant that…I…When I finally _do_ have sex-, it's going to be-"

"With me," John finished for her, staring intently into her eyes. "But it won't just be sex. 'Sex' isn't a special enough word for what we'd share."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her face flushed from the bluntness of his speech.

"Did I scare you?"

Angel thought the question over.

_What am I feeling_, she wondered. _Fear or Love_? She knew what she felt was both. Looking into his eyes, she nodded, "Sort of."

"I'm sorry-"

John was cut off as Angel pressed her fingers over his lips. "I wasn't finished," she smiled shyly, nervously. "The thing is, John…I'm a Christian. And I don't believe in premarital sex. I nearly gave into Derrick because of his manipulation, but I can't do that again. I can't let God down for a man, John. So what I was trying to say, was that when I finally do have sex, it will be with my _husband_." Tears welled up in her eyes, knowing she could forget ever seeing John again after telling him the truth. Someone like him would never go for someone like her—someone who would not sleep with him unless they were married. He would expect sex beforehand, and while she knew she'd fallen in love with him, she doubted he felt the same about her. She looked downward, afraid to look at his face. "Thank you for saving my life," she whispered despairingly, fighting off a sob and all the while trying to change the subject.

His soft reply surprised her.

"Don't you _dare_ think you're getting rid of me."

Holding her breath, Angel took a chance, and met his gaze.

No man had ever looked at her the way John was looking at her. He wanted her, yes, she could see that. But there was something more in his eyes.

"John…it wouldn't work. I think we'd each want more than the other was willing to give."

"What do you mean," John asked, confusion crossing his face.

"I mean…you'd want sex before I was willing to have it. And I would want…"

"Marriage?"

Angel nodded, swallowing back tears, "Y-yes. And I know you'd not-"

This time, John's finger came to rest against her soft lips.

"You need to quit assuming things," he smiled then continued. "I have to tell you something. But I don't want you to get angry again. I'm afraid you won't believe me."

"What is it," Angel asked, dreading whatever confession he had for her.

"When I heard you scream…and I went looking for you…I was scared to death. I found your coat ripped to pieces, I knew it had to be wolves. And it was way below freezing outside. I was afraid I wouldn't find you in time."

Angel reached up again and caressed his cheek with her hand, "But you did."

John nodded and went on, "But the reason I was so scared is…because…I love you, Angel Landon." He took a deep breath, "I've loved you since you opened the door to me last night. I could feel something drawing us together. Did you feel it?"

A sob escaped Angel's throat, and she nodded, "Yes, I did. But I was too scared to trust it." She shuddered then, realizing how close she came to making the biggest mistake of her life. "Not now though. I trust it. And I trust you. I love you. I fell in love with you from the very same moment you fell in love with me."

She felt John's arms tighten around her, pulling her closer.

"I'm glad," he said. "So what do you say we get engaged? Will you marry me?"

Angel gaped at him, "B-but…how would…aren't you sort of…"

"Spit it out, woman," John chuckled, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

"How will you handle…not having sex? I mean, guys seem like…they get really frustrated when they can't."

"Not all guys are Derrick, baby," John said. "I'll deal with it, okay? But I do hope it won't be one of those long engagements," he finished, chuckling.

Angel shook her head smiling in disbelief, "Really? You'll wait for me?"

He smiled back at her, his dimples appearing in his cheeks, "Forever, if I have to." He gazed longingly down at her mouth then. "But, if you don't ask me to kiss you soon…I'm gonna have to break a promise, honey," he whispered, tracing his finger lightly over her full bottom lip.

"Will…will you k-kiss me," she asked softly. "I need you to kiss me, John. Please."

He wasted no time as he lowered his head down, and lightly trailed his lips over hers. He wanted her first real kiss with him to be one she'd never forget.

"John…" she pleaded passionately.

He again brushed his lips over her mouth, taunting her lips with his own. He heard her whimper lightly, and he finally gave in to the temptation to fully capture her mouth with his. Her lips were warm and ready. She sighed against his mouth, and then moaned softly as he little by little, thrusted his tongue into her mouth. He ran his hands over her back and pulled her even closer against his large frame. He trailed his lips down to her neck and kissed the area behind her ear, then moved down to her shoulder.

With some assertiveness, Angel went after another kiss. John was surprised at her aggression but rather liked it. They finally broke the passionate kiss and lay in each other's arms.

"I love you." John said softly, kissing the tip of her nose.

She smiled happily, "I love you too. Forever."

And she sealed her vow with another kiss.

_**~The End~**_


End file.
